


Bear it All Broken

by ShinjiShazaki



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Hospitalstuck, Humanstuck, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-26
Updated: 2011-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-24 01:56:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/257589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinjiShazaki/pseuds/ShinjiShazaki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which all the characters are humans; Rose Lalonde studies psychiatry at the University of Washington, rooms with a dorky friend, and has a lovely girlfriend; John Egbert is a young aspiring filmmaker with a very cranky boyfriend; and Jade Harley is a cheerful friend.</p><p>Also in which Rose Lalonde is hit by a car.</p><p>(Inspired by a prompt on tumblr.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bear it All Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Hospitalstuck: After being dragged to a gas station for a munchie celebration for a successful date with Kanaya Maryam by her roommate, John Egbert, Rose Lalonde is hit by a truck and then transported to the hospital. Then both her friends and friends of Kanaya continue to visit her, meet each other, and make Rose thoroughly uncomfortable.

Rose Lalonde opened her eyes and, lying on her back, was forced to stare hazily up at a ceiling she managed to understand.

 _Oh_ , she thought. _People are going to tell me it’s a miracle I’m alive._

She turned her head slightly, saw the needles leading to IV and morphine drips piercing the crook of her arm and the back of her hand, both beneath a great swath of bandages, and closed her eyes again to pass out.

\-------

She’d been doing well enough for a student aspiring to psychiatry who had gone to a university on the west coast to avoid her mother. It was half a spur-of-the-moment decision (choosing a university in Washington state specifically), half a planned one (going cross-country).

John Egbert had been overjoyed when she told him she’d been accepted to her first choice university and immediately offered the second bedroom of his apartment to her. He justified it to his father by telling the earnest truth that he thought of Rose as a sister; she didn’t bother justifying it to her mother at all. John’s only conditions (applicable to any roommate at all, he assured her) were that she help critique his films in progress, watch at least one movie a week with him, and go out for celebratory slushees whenever one or both of them returned from a pleasant date.

That was why Rose was out that evening. She and John had arrived home at the same time from their dates, and John’s first reaction was to call for a slushee run. As they strolled down the sidewalk, he regaled her with the story of his afternoon date with one Karkat Vantas, a man he liked to call the crankiest of aspiring film critics in the whole of Washington. By the time he had finished his exuberant tale, they had purchased their drinks (blue raspberry for him, cherry for her) and were going to leave for home. They stopped at the corner, sipping quietly in the faint warmth of the late spring evening. John cast his eyes about, set his gaze upon a small Chinese restaurant across the street, and popped the straw from his mouth.

“What do you say to that for dinner?” he asked, gesturing to the restaurant. “I laughed myself tired with Karkat, and I wanna make sure I can stay up to listen to how your date with Miss Maryam went.”

She smirked. “Are you saying I’d bore you straight to sleep?”

He laughed. “Only if you start reading me your science books!”

“Chinese it is, then.”

He grinned and all but skipped across the crosswalk when the light turned in their favor. She chuckled and made to follow.

All that her mind had time to really register was sound. She heard brakes screeching and a horn blaring, but she could not turn quickly enough to see the car before it smashed into her and threw her down the street.

\-------

“Ah, there you are. You can hear me, correct?”

She stared up at the man standing over her. He wore a crisp white lab coat; the scrubs beneath were green. He looked at her mildly, one brow raised toward his hairline and the white hair that grew there.

“You are Rose Lalonde, a student at the University of Washington who has just finished her sophomore year, correct?”

“Yes.”

He lifted the clipboard in his hands and began to take notes on the chart thereupon. “Very good. Do you recall the circumstances of your accident?”

She blinked slowly. “I was hit by a car. I was out with my roommate John.” She blinked again. “Was the driver drunk or just stupid?”

“The former, sadly,” the doctor replied. “He ran a red light and was estimated to be traveling at twenty-five to thirty-five miles an hour when he hit you, while it’s difficult to tell how fast he was going before he reportedly hit the brakes. And with that knowledge, I am certain you know what I and others are going to say about you.”

“It’s a miracle I’m alive.”

He chuckled. “Very good. The EMTs reported no signs of a concussion when they brought you in, and I’m very happy to see that your mental faculties are untouched but for the loving embrace of morphine atop what must be severe pain. Is the dosage suitable?”

“My head feels full of puffy clouds and I don’t mind that I’m stuck in a bed, so I guess so.”

“And can you feel this?” He tapped her hands and feet in quick succession.

“Yeah.”

“Excellent.” He hanged the clipboard on the end of the bed and leaned over her, drawing a penlight from his coat pocket. “I’m going to check the response of your pupils to light. This will probably sting.”

The light he shined into her eyes made her wince, but it was perfectly bearable. She asked, “How bad is it?”

“Well,” he said, “your left side has four broken ribs, a compound fracture in your femur, a torn ligament in your knee, a number of hairline fractures in your pelvis, and not a little bit of road rash on your arm. Your right side netted you a break in both the radius and ulna, close to your wrist, and the worst of your road rash on your hip, shoulder, and a wide spot on your stomach. However, you made it through surgery with no complications, and everything has been set properly. I was astonished that you had almost no internal bleeding.”

She looked at him. “You were my surgeon?”

“Of course. Ah, my manners. Doctor Andrew Scratch.”

“Scratch?”

“Yes, a peculiar name, I know. But I will also be your primary caregiver through your recovery and rehabilitation, as I specialize in internal medicine alongside my surgery skills.”

“I guess it’s nice that I won’t have to remember two people when I’m already so high on morphine.” She let out a long, low sigh. “How long have I been out?”

“You were brought here two days ago. It is the evening of May the twenty-seventh.”

“Can I call John?”

“I’ve already had a nurse leave Mister Egbert a message on his phone. Your arms probably won’t be up to holding a phone for a long period of time, and if I may be honest, you’re better off resting for now.”

A pause. “Can I call my girlfriend?”

“As Miss Maryam was listed on your emergency contact card in your wallet, we’ve called her. She was very glad to hear that I was inducing consciousness and we agreed to give her another update after you and I finish our current conversation.”

Another pause. “Can you not call my mother?”

He lifted a brow. “Given that she is your mother, I felt it prudent to contact her personally and first of all your relations to deliver the news of your accident. For better or worse, I was only able to leave her a message, to which she has not replied.”

“Oh, good.” Her eyes began to close. “Do I get to have visitors soon?”

“As long as you remain stable for the next twenty-four hours and get a good deal of rest.”

“So it’s okay for me to pass out again?”

“Let’s avoid negative language and call it ‘falling asleep,’ hmm?”

“Okay.” After a moment, she opened her eyes and looked at him. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome, Miss Lalonde.”

She closed her eyes and drifted off.

\-------

John had a half sister by the name of Jade Harley, who gave Rose a massive bear hug the first time they met in their freshman year. She giggled often, spoke animatedly and at length about her studies in physics, and listened closely when John talked about his movies and Rose about her desire to enter psychiatry.

More than anything, Jade liked to talk about one thing: love. Rose resisted the urge to analyze what might go into the mental construction of a polyamorous person; she had promised John upon moving in that she wouldn’t try to analyze his pansexuality. Liberal though the university was, it was refreshing to discuss her own homosexuality with a close friend or two.

It was through Jade that she met Kanaya midwinter in her sophomore year. They had met for their twice-weekly tea and soda sessions in their favored small cafe on campus, and Jade leaped up in the middle of a sentence to greet her with a hug. Refuting all protests, she dragged a chair away from an unoccupied table and made Kanaya sit there after purchasing a cup of coffee. She made them talk after that, hauling conversation out of them both by hook, crook, and a great number of pleading looks seen more often on puppies than people.

By the time they went their separate ways, Rose had learned that Kanaya was older by a year; that she was majoring in design with the intent of crafting fashionable apparel; that she liked her coffee with a liberal splash of cream; and that she thought Rose was charming. Jade waved at them with a giggle and hurried off through the chilly afternoon air. They lingered long enough to trade phone numbers and agree to meet again for tea, coffee, and conversation that weekend.

It was, in turn, thanks to Kanaya that John met Karkat. Friends since childhood, they had entered into the same sort of roommate arrangement that John and Rose had. When John and his filmmaking were mentioned casually in a conversation about the trials and cheers brought on by having roommates, Kanaya said her own roommate might be interested in meeting John. Based on the report John gave of Karkat’s shrieking about the state of the film industry and John’s amateurism inevitably leading to the worsening thereof, Rose would have thought their first meeting was a fantastically bad one. Both Kanaya and John assured her it was nothing of the sort, and she let it go. John came back from his dates very happy, and that was more than enough for her to judge Karkat positively.

\-------

It took her a few moments of staring to understand that there was a young man in a hoodie much too large for him sitting hunched in the chair next to her bed. He paid no real attention to her: his gaze was focused on the iPhone in his lap, and she could see the tails of earbuds coming down from beneath the shag of his messy black hair. He fidgeted a great deal, bouncing one leg after another and scratching at his head. After a moment, Rose realized that the bright blue hoodie was too large for the man because it was actually John’s.

“Vantas?”

He nearly shot into the window behind the chair, squawking in shock. Almost panting, he yanked the earbuds out and stared at her. “Jesus _fuck_ , Lalonde. Give a guy some fucking warning, would you? Christ, you’ve been lying there like a shitty corpse in bloody bandages and all of a fucking sudden you’re saying my name in a creepy zombie voice? _Shit_.”

“What are you doing here?”

He scowled. “You say that like I _shouldn’t_ be here. What, am I all of a sudden just not worthy of gracing you with my shitty presence? Sorry, I guess I should’ve made a reservation to come to the ever-busy Chateu La’Londe, just off the third floor ICU and domicile of the eternally stylish flighty broad extraordinaire, now sporting this season’s finest in medical monitors and morphine drips.”

She looked at him mildly, eyes half-closed. “Karkat, I am glad to see you. I’m glad to see anyone. I just wouldn’t have expected you to be my first visitor.”

For a moment, he sat there with his mouth hanging open and the bags under his eyes showing bright plum-shaded black. He growled out a sigh, put his hands over his face, and pushed down hard. “Fuck me running. Look, I’m sorry. That came out bad. Just—ugh, whatever.” He dropped his hands to the arms of the chair and sat back heavily. He let his head fall back and slumped bonelessly. “I’m not your first visitor, I’m the tagalong of your first visitor. Kanaya was in here this morning to check on you, but you were still out. I came back with her this time, and now she’s out getting us both coffee.”

“You came with her?”

“She’s been flipping out for the last three days. I wasn’t going to let her fucking wander around in a hospital alone _again_ after she came home with her shit wrecked. So too bad if you didn’t want me to come along with her and have my ugly mug be the one you woke up to, because I’m not letting my best friend be this upset without having a shoulder to weep noisily on.”

“You are the living spirit of chivalry, Vantas.”

He scowled. “I cannot fucking believe you’re still able to be a sarcastic bitch on morphine, Lalonde.”

She hummed tonelessly. After a moment, she spoke again. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

“You can pay me back by never getting hit by a car again, okay?”

“Deal.”

“Cool.” He turned to look out the door. He started, and then popped out of his chair snarling, “Christ, there she is already. Oh, for fuck’s _sake_ , she doesn’t even have the coffee.” He went to the door and pushed it open. “ _Yes_ , now she’s up, you spastic broad. You stay here, I’ll get the fucking coffee myself.” He slipped through the door with another growling sigh and shut it behind him.

Kanaya had never been good at masking distress, and it was as clear as Rose thought she might ever see it. There was no makeup on her face; her red tinged eyes spoke of how it would have been ruined no matter how carefully or gingerly applied. Her light brown skin had been left pasty and flushed at the same time, and her eyes were as blackened as Karkat’s. She stood twisting her fingers, hands almost lost in the sleeves of her green knit sweater. Rose remembered after a moment that she had made the sweater herself early in January.

She lifted her left hand. “Hi, Kanaya.”

With a heavy, shaking sigh, Kanaya came away from the door. She pulled the chair Karkat had been sitting in closer to the bed, sat down, and took Rose’s hand carefully. She smiled, but tears still began to run down her face. “Hello, darling.”

“I must look awful.”

She sputtered out a laugh and wiped at her cheeks with her free hand. “You look better by virtue of being conscious. How do you feel?”

“Like morphine is a remarkable thing. Aside from that, tired. All right.” She stroked the back of Kanaya’s hand with her thumb. “This is the silliest sort of way to make you worried about me.” She smiled with a practiced cynic’s twist to her mouth. “I was just crossing the street with—” Her smile vanished. “Oh God. He was there when I got hit.”

Kanaya nodded. “He was the one to call me first that night.”

“How bad has it been for him?”

“He’s been staying with us since the accident. Karkat is doing his best to keep him from crying too much.”

“ _Christ_.” She looked about the room.

“What are you looking for?”

“A—phone. Scratch said I shouldn’t try to hold one up for a call but—oh, God, he’s been crying over me? Kanaya, can you—”

She set her phone on Rose’s lap. A number had already been dialed, and she could hear the ringing from the speakerphone. A click sounded, and a voice poured out into the air.

“ _Oh my God, Kanaya? Kanaya, are you at the hospital right now? I just got a text from Karkat that you guys are there. Tell me Rose woke up, **please** tell me she woke up—_ ”

“John?” Rose said.

“ _Jesus, Rose! Oh, Rosie, it is so good to hear your voice! How’re you feeling?_ ”

“Kanaya asked me that not two minutes ago. I’m all right.”

“ _Thank **God**. Rose, I am so sorry._ ”

“John, if you ever apologize for taking me out for post-date slushees because someone hit me with a car, I will be the best physical therapy patient the hospital has ever seen so I can come out of the hospital fully primed to beat you. Don’t do that.”

Laughter. “ _Geez, Rose, way to make a guy feel scared. But you’re doing okay? Really honestly okay?_ ”

“As best as a person with my laundry list of injuries can be. I’m fine.”

“ _Kanaya, is she telling the truth? Work your feminine wiles on her and make her tell the truth._ ”

She chuckled. “She’s doing all right, John, if you can’t tell by her uninterrupted sarcasm and snark. Are you doing what Karkat told you and finishing your filming?”

“ _I’ve been doing my best._ ”

“So not a whole lot,” Rose said.

“ _Hey, I’ve been worried sick about a girl who I consider my sister. No one’s going to give me a hard time about it. It helps that I’m the writer and director, but you get my drift. But if you’re **really** worried about it, we did finish shooting. You can help me edit once you get home, Rose!_ ”

“We’ll see how long it takes for me to get home.”

“ _Aw, c’mon, Rose! Positive thinking! I know you’re not the best at that, but you’ll get better a lot faster if you’re not a big grumpy sourpants all the time about it!_ ”

“I don’t see how I could be anything but positive with a roommate like you and a girlfriend like Kanaya.” She blinked slowly, and her eyes could only open halfway. “Thank you.”

“ _Wow, you started sounding sleepy really fast! Kanaya, should we let her go to sleep?_ ”

She reached up to stroke Rose’s hair. “I think that would be a good idea. If we let her rest, she’ll probably be able to be awake if you visit this evening.”

“ _That’d be great! So I’ll see you tonight, Rose! Get a good nap before I come in, okay?_ ”

“All right,” she mumbled.

“ _Okay, see you then! I’m super happy to hear you’re awake!_ ”

“See you then.”

Kanaya brought her hand down briefly to tap the phone’s screen and end the call, but she put her hand atop Rose’s head within seconds. “Go back to sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Okay.” She squeezed Kanaya’s hand. “Love you.”

“And I love you, Rose.”

\-------

“Rose, can I ask what your deal is with your mom?”

She looked at Jade a second or two before turning away. “You can, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to answer you. And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t mean I would tell you the truth about anything.”

Jade huffed a sigh and flopped flat down on her physics textbook. She drummed her legs against the ground in a rhythm just shy of kicking it childishly. “You’re so mean about that.”

“I deflect,” she replied, turning a page in her text about common mental disorders. “I have no real desire to discuss my history with my mother, and so I turn your questions away into petty backbiting.”

“If you know all that, then why don’t you ever _not_ backbite? Aren’t your books always talking about how people shouldn’t repress themselves and get things off their chests to heal and stuff?”

“Have you been making off with my textbooks? I think I remember one of them going missing for a few days.”

“Rose, can you be serious with me for even one second? I just want to know!”

“Why?”

“Why is it a bad thing for me to want to know things about you? I like you.”

“We’ve discussed that I’m entirely monogamous.”

Jade frowned. “And we also talked about how I’d never try to make you be poly.”

“True. That was a low blow and I apologize.”

“So can I make part of my accepting your apology contingent on you telling me what’s your deal with your mom?”

Rose lifted a brow. “It’s not often that I hear you use the word ‘contingent.’”

“Well, now’s as good a time as any.”

She looked at Jade a long moment before dropping her eyes to the page. She said, “My mother said that I was conceived thanks to a one night stand brought about by a fairly significant bender. While she’s never once said that I was an accident that she would take back, I’ve felt the sentiment was there. If nothing else, her alcoholism seems to speak of her trying to bury a regret she’s held or pain she’s felt for a long time. We’ve argued back and forth about her drinking problem, my desires to go into psychology, my homosexuality, her general lack of existence as a guardian, and her ridiculously overwrought attempts at ironic motherhood every once in a while.”

She turned the page. “But who knows if I’m telling you the truth?”

Jade tore three pages out of her notebook, crumpled them into a ball, and pitched it with startling accuracy at Rose’s head with an angry grumble.


End file.
